How About Now

it started

        At one point in my life, I was my sister's best friend. I could never disclose to you how beatific it was. To be able to look to the room right next to your own, and find the individual you love (and trust) the most. 

          We did everything together. We woke up together, walked the dog together, and walked through the day together. We took on all the bullshit of life together. It was uncanny that we ended up friends because, with no censorship, she used to hate my guts. I'm sure that at one point she wanted me dead. Having your sister hate you as a child is rough. Even so, it makes her coming to love you all the better.

          That's not what this is about though. I don't know what it's about, but it isn't her. As you read this, you must keep it in your mind that this is my memory. All this, whatever it is, will be what I remember and what is important to me. Flat out, I'll tell you, this is nothing near the whole truth. Does that matter, though? What I remember is only that for a reason, it made and/or makes a difference to me. I'm writing this for me and no one else. That's all that matters, right?

          Don't allow me on that tangent though. As you learn more about me, you'll be learning more of why I need to write this. There is no need for me to attempt to explain it now, especially since it's with complete futility.

          I'm sure you're wondering why I mention my sister in such detail and so immediately if this isn't about her. Let me tell you, that woman shaped me. Even when she hated me, all I wanted to be was her. When she came to love me, I became her. I became known as her doppelganger. That's who I was to everyone else, I was Vayle's sister. At the time, I didn't mind it because, well, it was what I wanted. At the time I didn't realize how ill-defined I was by others, myself, and even her.

          Somehow, I've still managed to evade the point. This girl, this sister, this double-agent of enemy and friend... I followed her everywhere. I am who I am because of her. I joined Mock Trial, and managed to supersede her in skill and passion for it. The Technology Student Association became something we shared. It rewarded me with the honor of president, over her nonetheless. In the election for the Ultimate Frisbee team officer, I beat her, twenty-two to one. That one vote was her.

          Do you get the point, or must I continue? Please don't get me wrong, I don't find joy in gloating. It's that, she lead me to bounds of things that I love and am passionate about. She shaped me. At the time, I didn't know that it would ruin us.

          Here I am, doing it again. I'm going to jump into the point because I'll never get to it otherwise.

          His name was Walter. It makes him sound old, I know. It was his parents trying to bring back some "classic names of the past." I know this because I remember talking to them about it. If you think Walter is bad, does it make it better that his sister's name was Bettie? You must admit, that's worse. I got past it though, by calling him Alty. It started with Walty but it evolved, somehow.

          I first noticed him two years ago, whilst photographing Vayle's Frisbee team, which he was (and still is) on. He isn't hard to notice, he wasn't to me at least. He has these blue eyes that are so clear that you could see them from across the field. His face had structure in such an attractive way that you couldn't not look at him if you tried. Shoulders broad, tall, he was so perfect.

           Want to know something funny though? None of these things made me notice him. Want to know what did? His ringtone. It was a Dalek. It was quiet near the benches, where I stationed myself with a camera. Then his phone rang with that repetitive, loud, and droning "Exterminate!" When he came over to pick up his phone, I found myself staring at him. Alty found me staring at him, too. He was still talking on the phone and looked down at me. I was sitting on the ground, and I could feel the pressure building up inside me, caused by his stare. Do you know how stressful that is? Finding an attractive, intimidating, and nerdy guy looking at you, staring into you? To be quite honest, I felt a little violated. Like he was looking at me wrong, if that's possible. Well, if you don't know what it feels like, then take my word for it. It's stressful.

          That was two years ago, when I noticed him. It's also when he noticed me. Although, at that point, I still haven't said a single word to him. Fast-forward approximately six months to when I joined the Frisbee team. Joining the team made me so bold and excitable, eager to be a part of something.

          I still hadn't forgotten about him and those eyes. My first encounter with him is when I went up to him, actually grabbed his face, and stared into them. After a second or so, I told him that they were beautiful. That they were the sharpest eyes I've ever had the privilege of appreciating. Let me tell you, I've never seen any boy get so flustered and blush so much to this day. Along those lines, I've also never seen someone so confused.

          He told me that he gets it a lot and scuttled away, and not in a way you'd imagine a guy like him to be doing.

           After that, we kept talking here and there at practices. You know, normal friend talk. We got in an argument once about the meaning of deception and perception, that he brings up to this day. Only because he can't think of many other times in which I was wrong, though. We didn't talk too much, that was about the largest conversation we had for a while.

          Until I texted him on Christmas night, which took all the courage my little body could muster. He responded almost immediately, and we texted for three days straight. The first time I texted that boy, I had my best friend behind me telling me to go after him if I thought he was cute. It turned into something so much more.

          He's something special. There's so much to elaborate on, but that's the general idea of it. With little to no exaggeration, he's a miracle. He did things that no one else could do. Changed me in ways doctors couldn't. He supported me in ways that put my own family to shame.

          I am much different now compared to how I was, and you'll come to know that. In due time. I'll tell you how I broke, got fixed, numbed, broke once more, and then repaired yet again. All to finally start breaking one more time. I started cracking but didn't break again. Which brings us to today.

           I started this at the point where I met him because that's when I became my own person. Or, started to at least. It was the beginning of a chaotic chapter of my life, yet somehow, I always felt peaceful.

          You'll have to read and see, won't you?